timelines
by deadskilletted
Summary: In which Annabeth is immortal, Percy is reborn, and Elysium can wait just a little longer. [Percabeth Reincarnation! AU (sort of)]


**I don't ship Percabeth, not _really, _but Zory seems to, so here.**

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She babysits a boy with fair hair and eyes that shine.

His parents commute to New York on the daily, and Annabeth is only one of his many babysitters. He's short and pale and absent-minded, and he looks at her like she's as unreal as a porcelain doll.

She's seventeen and doesn't bother aging, and when they meet again on his twentieth birthday, he doesn't question it.

For that, she is grateful.

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If anyone were to ask, she'd call these sets of instances _timelines_, for lack of better wording.

What she labels as the first timeline – the timeline they shared – was almost half a century ago. Under the assumption that the first timeline occurred during Percy's first life, _and_ that he is granted Elysium, _and _that he chooses rebirth, she has one more chance to meet him before he becomes a permanent resident of the underworld.

The thing is, she has no idea when the chance will come, or if it ever will. It's sad, really; timelines are tricky and lengthy and near impossible to prove, and she still puts all her trust in them.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

There's a new barista at the coffee shop she frequents, and it hurts to look at him.

He manages to make his hair look both messy and sleek, and his eyes are a deep hue of green. His face and arms are slightly tanned, accented with a carefree smile.

But his hands are cold and his eyes don't sparkle and his smile looks like it's being held up by fishhooks.

She starts taking her coffee to go.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

There are so many people who could be him but aren't.

She mostly sees him in little kids, who go out and enjoy what they have and laugh like there is hope for tomorrow. She sees him in the kids that stand up for others, and the ones who have trouble with school, and the ones who greet the world, palms open, fingers splayed, and feet on the move.

Sometimes, she sees him in teenagers; teenagers who look like the sky is on their shoulders, teenagers who look like they haven't slept in days, teenagers who would give the world to another before giving anything to themselves.

And then, she _really _sees him.

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He looks like he's trying to hide in his hoodie, only a few brown locks and the tip of his nose escaping. His whole body is tall and slender, legs long, moving quickly across the pavement. A hand shoots out and grabs his sleeve, tugging him into the nearest alley.

Against her better judgment, Annabeth follows.

The perpetrator has the guy pinned against a wall, faces inches apart. He has his hand pressed against the guy's chest, and the only signs of distress seem to be the bowed head and slight tightening of his shoulders. Then the hand starts to travel lower, lower –

Annabeth runs in and cuffs the perpetrator straight in the jaw.

He falls to the side, clutching at his face, and Annabeth can finally get good look at the other guy.

His face is as skinny as the rest of his body, and his eyes seem to shine in the darkness. His hair is cut short, for the most part, and his lips are pale and thin. He's the same height as Annabeth, and is probably around fourteen.

He looks terrified.

Annabeth takes a step back, and just as she's about to introduce herself, the guy sprints out of the alley and down the sidewalk.

She sighs.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

They meet again within a week's time.

She's just about to leave the coffee shop when she feels a tug on her sleeve. She watches the guy go and sit at a small table towards the back of the shop. Wordlessly, she sits across from him.

He wears the same hoodie and different jeans. Without looking up, he slides a small pastry across the table. His skin is dry and his fingers are slim.

He glances up, and at her confused look, he mumbles, "Thanks."

Annabeth must still look confused, because he tacks on, "For the other day."

She takes a bite of the pastry. It's slightly stale and much too sweet, but she eats it anyway. "You didn't have to thank me," she says, "but a name would be nice."

To his credit, the guy only looks mildly startled at the question.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

They should probably stop hanging out, because Annabeth _likes _this kid, and it turns out he is seventeen, not fourteen, and he looks like he wants to kiss her.

But she can't bring herself to stop; she even started _aging _for this guy, and she knows how it's going to end, but she figures that it's his last life, and that she can regret this after he's put into the Isles of the Blessed.

She'll stay as long as he's happy – he only gets to live in three timelines before he is taken out of the system, and Annabeth gets to perpetually stay in her first timeline, so he's top priority.

He's always been top priority.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

All three of Percy's timelines were destined to be short, it seems, when Annabeth finds out that his third life ends at 24.

_(Car crash, _she reads in the news, _2 killed and 3 injured. Drunk driver hits back of jeep, sending both cars into the forest next to the road. The road was reported to be near empty at the time.)_

Annabeth finds it sad how easy it is to accept.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

There's a boy with dark hair and eyes that shine and _he shouldn't be here._

At first, Annabeth thinks she's imagining the gut feeling of recognition, but she has never imagined something that hurt so much, so she figures that the feeling's real. Even so, she almost doesn't accept it, this occurrence that has no reason, no knowledge at its back, and it _hurts, _it's bittersweet and it _hurts, _because –

\- because another reincarnation of Percy is standing there.

In all her years, both mortal and immortal, Annabeth has never heard of someone being granted a fourth life.

_Granted _probably isn't the best word, but the only other word she can think of is _given, _and that as a description is even worse, because it denotes that a person _asks _for a fourth life, and who would want to risk their destination in the afterlife for another measly chance on Earth? What gives the risk its worth?

Annabeth likes to think that Percy did it for her.

\- ... .. ... .. ... .- .-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

She tries to stay away, but that plan fails within two days.

She tells herself it's okay, it's okay to see him, it's okay to hold on without ever letting go.

It's okay to take over timelines, it's okay to always be searching, it's okay, _it's okay –_

_(It's not okay.)_

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End file.
